Green Tea
by Laura Schiller
Summary: Tag for "Hunters". Chakotay and Neelix, Voyager's unofficial counselors, often get so caught up in other people's problems that they neglect their own. At least they've got each other.


Green Tea

By Laura Schiller

Based on Star Trek: Voyager

Copyright: Paramount

"Good … morning, Commander," said Neelix, frowning quizzically at the sight of a bleary-eyed Chakotay in his mess hall.

"Morning? What time is it?"

"Oh-four-hundred. I just came in here to get my bread started, I had no idea anyone was still up. Can I get you anything?"

"A cup of tea would be nice. Do you still have those dried Entharan starflowers?"

"Coming right up."

Neelix pottered around the galley in his early morning routine: mixing the bread dough, kneading it with loud, solid thumps, covering it up to let it rise and putting a pot of water on the boil for Chakotay's tea. He started out whistling one of Ensign Kim's jazz tunes, but something about the closed face and bent-over figure in the corner of the room discouraged whistling. So did the fact that he was here at all. It was Captain Janeway whom he usually encountered out of bed, poring over a data padd with one or more coffee mugs next to her. Not her serene and contented First Officer.

"Is everything all right?" he said, tentatively approaching Chakotay with the cup of tea he had requested.

"Thanks." Chakotay took the cup with a joyless, automatic smile. "It's nothing. I'm fine. I just … couldn't sleep."

That was the final clue. Neelix sat down in the opposite chair with a sigh and a shake of his head.

"Now, Commander," he said, "Excuse me for being so blunt, but when I said I was fine two months ago, you didn't believe it either."

Two months ago, Seven of Nine had used her Borg nanoprobes to resurrect Neelix after nineteen hours of undeniable death. She had meant well, but inadvertently sent Neelix into the deepest existential crisis of his life. After the deaths of his family and the destruction of his homeworld, at least he'd had the Path of the Forest to guide him, and the faith that he would someday meet them in the afterlife. But having come back from death with nothing but a dark void in his memory, which seemed to negate all his most cherished beliefs, had come close to breaking him. Chakotay had been the one to talk him out of committing suicide, lead him through several vision quests, and listen with inexhaustible patience as Neelix blundered, ranted and wept his way to something approaching a renewal of faith.

"You've been a lifeline to me – literally – and if you're in the same dark place right now as I was, I can't stand watching you without at least trying to help. Something's obviously bothering you. As Morale Officer – and, I hope, as your friend – I consider it my duty to listen."

Chakotay paused for a long moment before answering, staring into the pale green starflower tea. He wore civilian clothing, a loose brown shirt and black trousers; even his hair was unstyled and fell flatly over his forehead, making him look more subdued and vulnerable than Neelix had seen him in a long time.

"This isn't something the right tea can fix," he said finally.

"I didn't say I could fix it. I said I'd listen. Please, Chakotay … I know you have your spirit guide to talk to, but even she needs a break once in a while."

The idea of the gray she-wolf being overworked surprised a brief but genuine smile out of Chakotay.

"Is it something to do with the letters from home?" Neelix guessed. "Bad news, maybe?"

He had already talked to several crewmembers that day whose long-awaited letters hadn't brought them the joy they had anticipated. If he'd known how mixed the results of his mail-call would be, would he still have volunteered for it quite so eagerly?

"If you must know," said Chakotay, "Yes. I did get a letter from home, from an old friend. She told me the Maquis movement is over, that the Cardassians and their allies slaughtered us on a massive scale. My friends, my comrades, everything we fought for … " His voice was a low monotone, almost eerie in contrast with his words.

"Great Forest," Neelix breathed. "That's … that's terrible."

He remembered picking through the ruins of Rinax after the Metreon Cascade, searching for survivors and finding only death. Seeing his home in ashes, his sister Alixia's body burned almost beyond recognition. He understood what Chakotay must be feeling, but since he'd never known the victims of this attack, it did not have the same personal resonance for him as it would for the rest of the former _Liberty_ crew.

"Have you told the others?"

"Yes. They were … upset. B'Elanna especially."

That explained the Klingon glare he'd received just for wishing her a good day. Neelix imagined the scene – a roomful of people listening in tight, tense silence as Chakotay broke the news, then bursting into shouts or tears according to their nature. Their leader moving among them, lending a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on as the occasion warranted, never speaking a word of his own thoughts.

"What about the Captain?" asked Neelix, thinking privately that if anyone could get Chakotay out of this fog, it was Kathryn Janeway. A certain look in her gray eyes and her hand on his chest would be enough to wake up anyone.

"She doesn't know. She's got her own bad news to deal with. It's my job to make her burden lighter, not add to it."

"And what about your own burden, Chakotay?"

His answer, another long silence, was very telling. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse, either from lack of sleep or suppressed tears.

"I … I'm not sure, Neelix. I can hardly wrap my mind around it. When I think of all their courage, all our ideals coming to nothing … my planet destroyed, my friends all dead or in prison … it all seems so surreal. Like a nightmare I'm going to wake up from any minute. It seems impossible that I'll never see Tara's smile again, or Renaldo's thumbs-up gesture before he did something reckless, or argue with Laren about attack strategies. My memories are still so vivid in my mind … it may sound morbid, but I wish I could have seen their bodies. Held a funeral. Maybe then I could convince myself it's real."

"That's not morbid, Commander. That's just you looking for closure."

With all the horror and the tragedy of Rinax, Neelix had to admit that a lack of closure was not his problem. He had even met Dr. Jetrel himself, the creator of the Metreon Cascade, and somehow – after several bitter recriminations, angry outbursts and honest confessions on both sides – managed to understand that the scientist grieved over his misguided invention as much as any of its victims. He'd even somewhat forgiven Jetrel after watching his desperate efforts to atone. Chakotay was not at that place yet. Far from forgiving the Cardassians and their allies, he'd barely begun to come to terms with all those deaths.

"You could still hold a memorial, you know," Neelix suggested. "Something for your crew to share, plus any of the Starfleet crew who'd care to come. You could talk abour friend, celebrate their lives and their achievements. Pray for them, even. You and I can't be the only religious people on this ship."

"Maybe … " Chakotay sounded unconvinced, but the more Neelix talked, the more it sounded like a good idea.

"You taught me yourself that I need to remember everyone at their best – Mother, Father, Alixia and even Tally the fruit seller, though I barely knew her, and Kes, though she didn't really die. 'Remember what you learned from them, how they enriched your life as you did theirs. When you grieve for them, don't let your grief drown out the happiness they gave you.' Did I get that right?"

"I get the message, Neelix! Was I really that sentimental?" A spark of irritation flared in Chakotay's dark eyes.

"That you were – and every word is true."

"No wonder you threw the akoonah at me."

"I give you full permission to use me for target practice, as long as it makes you feel better."

They held each other's gaze for a long time, Chakotay glaring, looking more alive than he had all afternoon. Neelix wouldn't have been surprised if the ex-Maquis had taken a swing at him; what he did not expect was to see Chakotay's entire body shake with silent laughter. Even the teacup shook, spilling a few drops on his hand and on the table.

"Sorry, Neelix … it's just so damned ironic. We're the ones everybody comes to for support, and what a mess we both are. Talk about the blind leading the blind."

Neelix stood up, rounded the table, and lightly touched Chakotay's shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring way.

"Then we'll just have to listen to each other. You know where to find me."


End file.
